


Warmer Weather

by kiyala



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 02:52:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1101518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Enjolras and Grantaire are on holiday in Australia, and Enjolras has Plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warmer Weather

"It's so hot," Enjolras sighs, for the third time that morning.

"Something something southern hemisphere," Grantaire mumbles, from where he's spread out on top of their double bed, wearing nothing but his boxers. "Do I need to remind you that this was _your_ idea?"

Enjolras huffs quietly. "When I suggested that we go to Australia for Christmas, I was mainly thinking of how far it would be from our families. I wasn't prepared for this."

"I warned you," Grantaire tells him, his eyes shut, a smile tugging at his lips. "Several times."

"I'm better suited to—"

"—Colder weather, I know," Grantaire finishes for him. "Or any kind of weather that is even remotely cool, so you can get away with wearing that red coat of yours. Trust me. I know."

"Oh, like you can talk. With your green scarf and matching beanie."

"I like it when we complement each other," Grantaire says. "You're red, I'm green. You're tall, I'm short. You're driven and motivated, I'm…"

"Talented and infuriating." Enjolras climbs onto the bed, holding himself above Grantaire, and kisses him deeply.

"I was going to say useless," Grantaire tells him, a little breathlessly. 

"I am not just going to let you insult the man I love," Enjolras says sternly. "That's unacceptable."

"He's annoying."

"Oh, absolutely."

"I am?" Grantaire blinks up at him, and it's enough to make Enjolras kiss him again. 

"You make a _hobby_ out of annoying me. You get under my skin and know me well enough to know exactly what to say to get a rise out of me, and it's one of the reasons I love you."

Grantaire wrinkles his nose. "You're weird."

Enjolras laughs, getting up. "Come on, put some clothes on. We're going out."

"I thought you said it was hot," Grantaire mutters, even as he sits up. 

"There is a beach literally ten minutes away from our hotel by foot," Enjolras points out. 

"And it's packed full of people," Grantaire replies. "You can see it from the window there. Nobody with any sense is going to want to join that crowd."

Instead of saying, _well, it's a good thing neither of us have any sense_ , Enjolras simply huffs. "Well, let's go for a walk, at the very least. I want to enjoy the sun."

They end up walking along the street just in front of the beach. The crowds look even thicker from up close and Grantaire is incredibly glad that they're not trying to squeeze among the rest of the people out on the sand. They don't hold hands, but the frequency with which their hands brush against each other is anything but coincidental. 

"This barely even feels like Christmas," Grantaire mutters. "Not enough… _anything_ that even feels remotely like Christmas, really. If you don't count the Santa hats on the beach."

"I suppose it's more about spending time with people you care about," Enjolras replies. "Which everyone seems to be managing just fine."

"So am I," Grantaire says with a wink, that makes Enjolras smile as they keep walking, lapsing into silence.

"…Grantaire…" Enjolras says at length, taking a deep breath.

"I saw the ring box, you know," Grantaire says, as casually as he can manage. "When you were packing your suitcase, and then when you were unpacking your things in the hotel room. Pretty brave of you, doing this when we're on holidays, but I guess you already know my answer anyway. But really, Enjolras, on Christmas Day?"

Enjolras blinks at him for a moment, before his brow furrows. "We're on holidays for two weeks, I wasn't going to ask you _today_."

"Oh."

"I wanted to know if you had any preference for where we get our ice cream, considering we've walked past three stores in the past five minutes," Enjolras says, and there's a flush on his cheeks that Grantaire knows has nothing to do with the heat. "I am mostly certain that I know your answer, but when I actually ask, the way I'd planned…"

"I'll act surprised," Grantaire replies with a wink. "Oh man, it's going to be big and embarrassing, isn't it? Or—oh man, are you going to do it when we're on top of the Sydney Tower tomorrow night? Because I've spent my entire life laughing at those tourists who propose on top of the Eiffel Tower and if you're going to—"

"Grantaire," Enjolras interrupts, his brows drawn together, even though he's smiling. "You know what I said about you being infuriating?"

"Right." Grantaire finds that he can't quite stop smiling himself. "By the way? None of this _mostly certain_ bullshit. Because _yes, fuck yes_."

Enjolras' entire expression brightens, before he shakes his head. "I haven't even asked you yet."

"Well, I guess I'll have to save my _fuck yes_ es for when you do." Grantaire's heart is racing, and he doesn't know how to make it stop. He doesn't even know if he wants to. "Oh and to answer your actual question, ice cream is good. I'm not fussed on where. You can pick. But first I'm going to kiss you, okay?"

Enjolras has time to nod, and very little else, before Grantaire pulls him close, into a deep kiss.

"Grantaire," Enjolras murmurs when they pull apart. "There are people staring."

"Oh really?" Grantaire raises an eyebrow, and kisses Enjolras for longer this time, with tongue. Enjolras whimpers softly, burying his fingers in Grantaire's hair and kissing back. 

Grantaire doesn't bother looking around once they pull apart. If people want to stare, he's not going to stop them. If anything, he might as well give them something to look at.

Taking Enjolras' hand in his, Grantaire starts walking in the direction of the nearest ice cream shop. "Come on, almost-fiancé."

"Almost-fiancé," Enjolras repeats, trying out the latter half of the word especially. He gives Grantaire a sidelong glance. "I really don't want to propose in the middle of an ice cream shop, Grantaire."

Grantaire grins, knowing exactly what Enjolras means. Of course he does. Enjolras is one of the most impatient people he knows and now that Grantaire is prepared for the question…

"We'll get our ice cream and go back to our lovely air-conditioned room, and then you can ask me," Grantaire suggests. "Maybe even when we're in bed."

Enjolras raises an eyebrow. "I like the way you think. Enough to want to marry you, actually."

They end up skipping the ice cream and going straight back to their room, to bed. Enjolras ends up slipping the ring onto Grantaire's finger as he chants, _yes, yes, fuck yes_ as he digs his heels into Enjolras' back. They kiss messily and once they both come, they're slow to pull apart from each other, despite the heat. 

"Celebratory ice cream?" Grantaire suggests, as Enjolras kisses the ring on his finger.

"In a while," Enjolras murmurs. "For now…"

He doesn't even need to finish the sentence. Grantaire grins at him, holding his arms open. Enjolras presses himself closer, kissing Grantaire and not pulling away for a long time. He knows that Enjolras had _plans_ for the ring, for the proposal, and the fact that he'd changed all of it out of impatience is enough to make Grantaire's heart feel like bursting. He doesn't know how to express how he feels in any other way than kissing Enjolras right now, but Enjolras only smiles against his lips and kisses right back.


End file.
